


Pathetic

by Kawaiicoyote



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:59:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/pseuds/Kawaiicoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not how Dave pictured how the night would turn out. Kurt just wishes Dave would look at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pathetic

**Author's Note:**

> I almost didn't remember writing this that's how long it's been sitting on my flash drive. Un-beat'd due to the fact my beta took a leave of absence when I wrote this, so all mistakes are mine.

Even from outside the music is booming to almost eat shattering proportions. The heavy bass filled air trembles. He can see a flash of purple and pink strobe lights each time the club door is opened and anticipation thrums through his veins almost as strongly as his pulse.  Just a few more people ahead of him and then he’ll be inside. He’ll be inside and hope that the one person he wants to see is in there too.

Fifteen agonizing minutes later Dave steps inside the crowded club. He stands just to the side of the entrance as his eyes adjust to the darkness that’s only broken by the strobe lights and the muted lamps that sit atop the booths and bar that line the sides of the building.

All around him people dance and grind and gyrate with each other. Some are paired off, some dancing with themselves or with everyone within arm’s length, while some have opted to dance in cluttered groups. To Dave it looks like a fully clothed rutting session and he honestly can’t find the appeal or enthusiasm for that kind of dancing. Sure he _can_ see the appeal of being wrapped up in someone specials arms, dancing in the middle of the living room to a musical that’s playing on the widescreen. But this that he’s seeing, he can’t call dancing. Not in the very least.

As a group of rowdy drunken men pass by him Dave is brought back from his thoughts. He tugs the collar of his powder blue polo shirt absently, thinking that the collars are always uncomfortable as his eyes scan the crowds again.

He knows that he’s supposed to be here. Earlier that day he’d heard Puckerman talking to someone on the phone, oblivious to his presence, and _knew_ he’d be at this club tonight. Dave could only hope that he’d be here by himself or with that black chick, what was her_ Mercedes. He could only hope he’d be with his gal pal Mercedes, or even Rachel Berry. Anyone would be better than to have him here at this club with…

His thoughts trailed off again as he caught sight of him in the middle of the crowd. Dave wasn’t sure how he’d done it, or was always able to do it, but his eyes instantaneously found him. Kurt Hummel, his hair perfectly coifed, his torso clad in a form fitting black shirt that had a slight sheen to it. Almost as if it was spandex, which made Dave wonder if he was wearing one of those ballet gets ups, along with his skintight white pants that had a skull pattern littering them and knee high combat looking boots. The mere sight of Kurt stole Dave’s breath away. And as he watched the slightly younger boy turn in a circle, revealing indeed that he was wearing a leotard, that was what it was called, his shoulder blades shifting under creamy skin, it made Dave’s head spin.

For the longest time he just stood there, frozen in place as he watched Kurt dance. He watched the way the sheen of his top caught the purple and pinks of the strobe lights. The way his hips swayed in time to the music, his arms thrown up almost seductively over his head, his head tilted back as his danced and those clear blue eyes shut for the moment.  

And then, Kurt opened his eyes and Dave could have sworn his heart skipped a beat as the boy smiled brightly before tossing his head back with a laugh. Even though the music was roaring in his ears he thought he could have heard his light breathy laugh as if he was standing right next to him instead of a across the room amidst the sea of gyrating bodies.

Right then he didn’t care how creepy he looked, just staring into the crowd, watching Kurt as he turned and danced and swayed.  He was so caught up in watching Kurt he didn’t realize he was actually dancing with someone until a pair of arms wrapped around his  waist and was pulled flush against another body.  

Dave felt as if ice water had been poured through his veins as he watched Kurt’s hands slide up the other boy’s chest, moving upwards until his arms around wrap loosely around his neck as they both swayed to the music. A twinge of recognition passed through Dave as he watched the two of them. Kurt was dancing with that snob from the private school. He watched as Kurt dipped his head to talk into.. .Dane, Shane, Cain, he couldn’t remember the guy’s name so he settled for eyebrows, ear.  If he was to ask someone what color he was he was pretty sure they would say green. Envy and jealousy began to singe through him as he kept watching, his chest clenching to the point of pain as he watched the boy he liked, even possibly loved, have the time of his life with another guy. Another guy who in Dave’s opinion didn’t deserve Kurt’s affection, but then again that was like the pot calling the kettle black.

Every bad thing he’d done to the younger boy began to flash through his mind. Every time he threw a slushie into his face. Every time he shoved him into the cold metal lockers. Every time he laughed or sneered or acted like he didn’t give a shit as stubborn tears welled up in those crystal clear blue eyes before he could stomp away. If anything, Dave in all honesty was the last person on the face of the Earth worthy for Kurt’s love, or even friendship. That knowledge that through his own cowardice he’d thrown most likely any possibility of being with Kurt one way or the other settled like a rock in the pit of the jocks stomach.

Standing in the same spot he’d been in since he’d walked through the doors Dave weighed his options. He could leave, that was an option that was beginning to win in his mind. He could go to the bar and hope that he passed for over 21, since he didn’t have a fake ID and didn’t feel like sweet talking any of the women or men into buying him a drink. The last option that had him shifting awkwardly was to go ask Kurt to dance. To cut in and hope that he didn’t get rejected by the one person he wanted.

But being rejected would be better than just standing around like an idiot. It would prove that he wasn’t a coward, like he’d been his whole life hiding behind a mask. He could prove to Kurt he was worth being with, worth trusting, worth loving.

Before he could dwell on the options anymore his Converse clad feet were moving forward, weaving in and out and around the mass of bodies. His eyes never left the back of Kurt’s head as he made his way through. As if the toffee colored head of hair was a beacon to him.

After a few minutes he was to the point where if he reached out he could touch Kurt if he wanted. He was so close that the urge to just reach out and draw the lithe boy close to him made his fingers itch.

Then it happened.

Dave, hand poised in mid-air, froze as Eyebrows lifted his gaze from Kurt. At first he didn’t notice Dave as he kept dancing with Kurt, but then as their eyes locked a flicker of recognition passed through the other boy’s eyes. Amusement and hatred leaked onto his face without his expression changing in the slightest.  The light hazel gaze turning soft as he looked back at Kurt, tucking his finger until his chin and tilting his head back just a little.

Dave watched as eyebrows made sure Kurt’s eyes were closed before he dipped his head and sealed their lips together. The other guy’s eyes watching Dave the whole time as he kissed Kurt, his hands firmly planted and gripping his backside.

Anger and hurt made Dave’s blood boil. He wanted to will the floor to open and swallow him whole. He wanted to disappear. He wished he’d never come to club in the first place.

Shoulders slumping in defeat he turned to leave. There was no point in him trying to talk Kurt into dancing with him. He was obviously too wrapped up in his current situation to care about anything else, literally.

“Hey, wanna dance.” A voice shouted at him, making him near jump out of his skin with how close it was. Dave looked down to see  what he could only describe as Kurt’s doppelganger but with the reddest hair he’d ever seen in his life, deep brown eyes, and a liking for tee shirts and blue jeans.

“You talkin to me?” He asked dumbly, not caring how he was staring at the boy. Said boy only nodded with a lopsided smile before reaching out and taking Dave by the hand and walking him out into the middle of the dance floor.

“I’m__”

“No names, just dance,” Dave snapped. He didn’t want names; he didn’t really even want to be there anymore. But, with someone who looked so much like the one person he wanted he could just pretend for the moment and just let loose and dance.  The boy simply nodded, looking a bit crestfallen before Dave pulled him close and they became part of the gyrating masses.

Across the club Kurt was mentally freaking out. Warning bells and red flashing lights were going off in his mind as Blaine presses his lips against his. As much as he wanted to pull away he couldn’t. He had to act like the perfect boyfriend and wrap his arms around Blaine’s neck and twine his hands into the soft black curls at the nape of his neck. It was about all he could stomach to not gag into his mouth. But in the end he supposed it was easier than being alone.

“Pathetic isn’t it?” Blaine asked when they finally parted. Kurt’s brows furrowed in question before he was slowly turned around.

At first he didn’t know what he was looking at. All he was seeing was nameless people dancing with other nameless people. He was about to ask what Blaine had meant by that when he saw _him_. Dave was there, his arms wrapped around another boy who was looking at him like Dave was a god. It made his insides twist and chest tighten.

“Pathetic,” Blaine stated once again as his arms slid around his waist from behind.  Kurt swallowed hard around the lump that had started to form as he continued to watch on.

“Yeah… pathetic,” He barely managed to mumble, a tear breaking free from the ones that were welling up in his eyes despite trying to blink them away as he desperately willed Dave to look over at him. He never did.

 


End file.
